We Found Love
by sugarplumdreams
Summary: They'd found each other, found love where love seemed to be hopeless, and they would live happily ever after.


**A/N:** Posted to Tumblr February 22, 2014. Inspired by Jesse J's cover of We Found Love. CS at the wedding at the end of 3B (at the time I'd written this, all things surrounding the wedding had been speculative). I just wanted more dancing and loving and yes :3

* * *

**We Found Love**

_Yellow diamonds in the light  
__And we're standing side by side  
__As your shadow crosses mine  
__What it takes to come alive  
__It's the way I'm feeling  
__I just can't deny…_

She's walking along the garden path when she sees it glowing against the setting sun, a gazebo covered in a hundred tiny white lights. She pauses to study it, taking it all in with a soft smile on her face. It looks like fireflies have taken permanent residence along the railings, up the support beams, and over the roof — it's beautiful. She wonders if the newlyweds have plans to meet here later and she's enough of a romantic to find the idea sweet. Until then however, she's found a perfect, quiet little corner… a safe space where she can just be and _breathe_ and not have to put on a show for everyone.

Emma makes her way towards it, lifting the skirt of her gown — her mother's insistence — as she slowly climbs up the steps. She's standing in the center, turning on the spot to further appreciate the decor, when a tingle suddenly shoots across her bare shoulders then down her spine. Instinctively she glances back behind her and as her eyes meet a familiar pair of bright blue ones, her stomach clenches.

She wants to make a joke about how stalking is illegal in this realm but the soft glow around him from the lights makes the air get stuck in her lungs. He looks…dashing in his red vest and favored leather, devastatingly handsome in the ever-growing twilight — every bit a fairytale prince instead of the notorious pirate his reputation had made him out to be. _Well, so much for breathing._

He stands in the threshold of the entrance, shoulder leaning against the pillar with his hand grasping onto his belt. "Hiding out?" he wonders, the corners of his mouth tugging up gently.

It used to annoy her that he knew her so well, but now it just makes her return his smile as she faces him. "I've never really been one for weddings," she replies with a shrug. "Or parties in general."

He makes some sound of agreement, watches her from across the space and her body involuntarily sways towards him. _Jesus_ but the pull to him is strong, if anything, _stronger _now despite the year spent apart. She can't stand still so she begins to move around the arbor, turning from him once more and distracting herself with the view of the surrounding gardens.

"Besides, everyone's too busy celebrating to notice."

"I noticed," he says.

Her smile widens, she can't control it, and she silently curses herself then him. It's a damn good thing he can't see her face because he doesn't need his ego further stroked by knowing exactly how he affects her. Emma takes a breath and carefully neutralizes her expression as she stands opposite him on the other end of the gazebo, her lower back bracing against the railing.

"You're just observant."

"Only with you."

She shakes her head at him. That kind of smoothness and charm he possesses, that rolls so easily off of him, can't be taught — it's an inherent trait, one that makes him ridiculously irresistible. She prides herself in having held him off for so long, and maybe it's just the romantic nature of their surroundings, but she feels her resolve slowly beginning to crumble and it's both frightening and thrilling.

"If you think pretty words are going to make me swoon, Captain, you are in for a rude awakening." She smirks as she says it, her voice teasing.

He chuckles at her, gaze dropping briefly before returning to hers. He doesn't reply though, allowing the silence to remain and the tension to build in the air as he studies her intently. Her throat closes up and her heart starts hammering in her chest, and just when she thinks she can't stand it anymore, he moves, pushing off the beam he's been leaning on to slowly make his way towards her.

"How about truthful words, then?" he asks, eyes never leaving hers.

Everything inside of her goes soft and warm. _Damn it!_ Emma sighs and curses at herself once more.

It seems to take him forever to close the distance between them, but the nearer he gets, the more her breath backs up into her lungs and _Jesus_, by his expression she knows she's in _so much_ trouble. It's pride that keeps her from moving, that keeps her from looking away. He comes to a stop in front of her and smiles knowingly. His hand reaches up so his fingers can toy with the earring dangling from her ear and she forces the shudder from her body, unwilling to give him the satisfaction.

"We match," he grins, eyes moving over her dress that perfectly coordinates with his vest. "I have to say, red looks very becoming on you, darling."

He moves lower, hand brushing her golden curls back from her shoulder and his gaze follows his fingers as they skim over her necklace before moving over her collarbone. She gulps, watches the dimple near the corner of his mouth deepen slightly when his lips tilt up again.

"You look beautiful," he tells her.

She snorts at that, rolls her eyes at him despite the squeeze in her heart at his sincerity. She doesn't acknowledge the comment, instead turning her head towards the music drifting across the gardens from the pavilion and to them. She recognizes the song and hums quietly in approval.

"I love this song," she murmurs.

He stills, listening with her as the notes of the piano keys and the strumming of a guitar mingle together. It's a pretty version and for a moment she's drawn away, mesmerized, and then she feels the backs of his fingers against her jaw, stroking lightly and her head whips towards him.

"Dance with me," he says.

Her brow pinches together in confusion. "What?"

But he's already tugging on her hand, drawing her into the center of the gazebo and the warmth of his arms. "Dance with me," he repeats, another smile for her.

"I- I don't dance." It's all she can say, utterly confused how her body could betray her — she didn't even put up a fight, she _still _wasn't putting up a fight.

"Everyone dances." He draws her closer and their bodies bump gently. "You just need to find the right partner."

She swallows thickly, lifting her eyes to his as her hand falls to his shoulder. "Oh, is that right?"

He slides his hook under her other hand to draw her into a formal dance hold then begins to sway — she follows easily, surprising herself…he leads well, surprising her even further. At his pointed look, she rolls her eyes one more time. _Smug bastard._

"Where did you learn to dance?" she asks.

"Don't look so surprised," he laughs. "I've attended my fair share of balls, I'll have you know."

Emma pulls her head back to give him a disbelieving look, her brow furrowing. "Since when?"

"Once upon a time ago."

She has a hard time imagining him 'once upon a time ago,' younger, carefree, maybe just as charming and ridiculously handsome…something inside her tells her she's right, but it's still such a stretch of the imagination. She wonders if he'll ever tell her about it, about his 300 years before her, and she hopes someday he does. Then she wonders if she'd have fallen for him this same way — slowly, overwhelmingly — in another life, a life of castles and balls and courts, a life untainted by such heartbreaking pasts, and when his blue eyes meet her green she knows the answer without a shadow of a doubt.

_Absolutely_.

A sigh escapes her lips. "Don't take this the wrong way, okay?"

He cants his head at her. "What do you mean?"

She doesn't say anything, just slips her hand from his and slides it up his arm, inching closer until her chin rests against his shoulder. Her body presses into his and it still surprises her how perfectly she just…_fits_ there. She feels the brush of his lips near her ear, the rumble in his chest from his quiet chuckle.

"Shall I take this to be the right way, then?"

_Yeah_. She wants to answer but the word doesn't come. She feels him press a kiss to her jaw and his scruff tickles against her skin — the gesture makes tears spring to his eyes and makes her heart squeeze. She wants to say a number of things to him but the words don't come, instead she just blinks back her tears and holds him, moves with him while he dances with her. The silence stretches on as she relaxes into his embrace, eventually she turns her face into his neck and breathes in the scent of him — leather and sea and rum…it's familiar and comforting.

"I wasn't being facetious earlier, you know," he murmurs. "You truly look stunning tonight."

"Just tonight, huh?" she wonders, eyebrows shooting up teasingly.

"Mmm, everyday," he smirks. "But most especially tonight."

"You might be slightly biased." But she smiles against his skin.

"It's alright for you to accept a compliment, Swan."

She doesn't say anything for a long time, but her grip on him tightens. "I still haven't figured out how to…do this."

"Do what?"

"_This_." She sighs, nuzzles against his jaw. "You and me."

"Is that what we are, Emma? 'You and me?'"

Her chest squeezes, tightens painfully. _Too much, too much…not enough._ "I- I don't…know."

By then he's picked up the melody of the song and has started humming it lightly over the curve of her shoulder as he brushes his nose along the line of her neck towards her ear. He presses his check against hers and trails his hand up her back.

"If you're asking for my opinion, I quite like the sound of '_you and me_.'" His fingers caress lightly at the base of her neck, kneading at the tension there. "Now _that_ I'm most definitely biased about."

She chuckles and her hand slides down to rest over his heart. She feels it stutter beneath her fingertips and she has the urge to cry again. "You kept your word," she tells him, remembering their final moments in Storybrooke and the vow he made to think of her everyday. "You kept your word and then you came back for me."

He turns his head, kisses her brow and the tip of her nose. "I couldn't very well leave you without all that fun I promised you."

She's grateful that he lightens the mood for her sake, but she has to admit that _this_ — the two of them dancing and just…_being_ — is a nice start for fun.

"I've missed you," he tells her quietly after another minute.

He doesn't need to say it — she's known since the very moment her memories had been restored, known it with every longing glance and purposeful touch of his hand, known it in the way that he stands at her side or brushes back the hair from her shoulder, known it with his quiet smiles and constant proximity. He doesn't need to say it, but it's still nice to hear, especially when she feels the same.

"Me too," she whispers back, and though it may not be in the same way or to the same extent that he had since he was able to retain his memories, it still leaves an ache in her heart. He'd been taken from her, she'd lived a whole year without him, without the memories of him. There was no beanstalk, no sword fight at the lake, no broken ribs and hospital bed, nothing. She had no recollection of the man who'd helped her find her son, saved her father's life, and _loved_ her unconditionally. She'd lived without his belief in her, without his Godawful innuendos that made her roll her eyes even if she secretly was amused by them, and without the _knowing_ that he would always be there for her.

"I don't want to do that again."

"Likewise," he replies.

"I'm scared," she admits.

"About?" His hand moves down her spine, settles on her lower back while he continues to move them to time with the music.

"My family seems to be cursed in this arena."

"How do you mean?"

She sighs once more, shifting to touch her forehead to his. "We're always being separated from the people we…lo- _care about_."

There noses bump together softly and by the way his fingers flex, she knows he's picked up on her almost slip.

"Are…are you afraid to _care about_ me because you're worried about losing me?"

She exhales on a shaky breath, her eyes closing at his words. She doesn't reply but nods her head against him.

"Would it make you feel better if I told you I felt as you did?"

Her hand finds his face, her thumb brushing across the scar on his cheek. "No. We can't both be scared, it's like a rule or something."

He chuckles, his arms tightening around her. "We can both be scared. I _am_ scared, just as you are. I know what my life is like with you, Emma, and I also know what it's like without you. If I could have my way, I'd remain at your side always."

His words seep into her, spreading light and warmth through her entire body and when a tear slips down her cheek, she sniffles but doesn't make to swipe it away. _Stupid pirate_. "How are we going to do this?"

"Together," he says simply. "And one day at a time. I'm in no rush."

"Me neither," she answers, the corners of her mouth tipping up gently.

"Good. And Swan?"

"Hmm?"

"I'm going to kiss you now."

But she's the one that kisses him, wrapping her arms around his neck and tangling her hands in his hair as she gives and gives and gives. Here was life and hope and _love_ — everything she'd ever wanted but had been too afraid to take. Not anymore though, he is hers and she is his and it will always be that way. They'd found each other, found love where love seemed to be hopeless, and they would live happily ever after.

_Fin_


End file.
